


Trouble Notes

by versol



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Begging, Dry Humping, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Smut, if u look hard enough, its kinda subtle but, side!xiubaek, theres been too much suchen lately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versol/pseuds/versol
Summary: Junmyeon was used to writing in peace until that damned cellist moved in upstairs and started causing trouble.





	Trouble Notes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to take a small break from the next chapter of Revitalize. I was oddly excited to write this so I really hope you enjoy reading it. I still don't feel completely confident on the outcome, so please let me know what you think. I'm still adjusting to the whole smut/oneshot thing lol.
> 
> This was originally supposed to be up earlier, but unfortunately I got caught up with school, being sick, and totallynotbinginghaikyuu
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy! And to my fellow exo-l, happy elyxion. I really thought I was emotionally prepared for this but.. who was ?

 

 

 

Junmyeon is totally immersed in his work. Fingers flying on his keyboard, his once hot cup of coffee has since been abandoned next to him, and his silence is music to his ears as he writes away. These past few weeks have been particularly rough on him since he’s had the quite possible worst case of writer’s block this week he’s had in a few months. 

 

Not to mention the person that moved in upstairs is a cellist who never stops practicing. 

 

Junmyeon has been having to deal with their constant, repetitive playing for exactly two weeks and three days now and he swears the only time that person isn’t playing is when they’re sleeping… Which starts around midnight. 

 

He’s had to deal with this constant playing for over two weeks and it completely disrupts him from his writing. Which is very important to him.

 

He’s been spending endless nights working on his most important project yet and there can not be a single flaw in his new piece. But that stupid cellist, whoever they are, are likely going to be the one to cause that flaw.

 

And Junmyeon absolutely can’t stand for that.

 

Today has been different, though. It’s actually been quiet for the first time in weeks today and it’s perfect. Cellist person must have had something important, causing them to not be home, leaving Junmyeon in total silence, and total peace, with tons of ideas that he’s been scrawling on coffee stained notepad next to him.

 

It’s already past 7pm and he’s been at it since early this morning, not counting the snack breaks he’s had in between, of course.

 

He glances at the time down in the corner of his computer and his eyes widen. How did time past so quickly? 

He stands from his desk, as if he isn’t in a hurry and stretches his sore muscles. He turns around, leaning against his desk admiring the view of the city from outside his window, and sighs, rubbing his face with both hands and pushes himself off, grabbing his cold cup of coffee as he leaves his office. His brain is pretty much fried now, but he’s proud of how far he’s gotten today, it’s been the furthest he’s made it in the past few weeks.

 

The furthest since that damn cellist moved in upstairs.

  
  


He puts on some casual clothes and slips a jacket on, grabbing his things as he slips out the door of his apartment for a few hours for some air. He sends a quick text to the only person that still somehow tolerates him being late and steps on the elevator. 

  
  


**_Minseokkie Hyung;_ **

_ Should I have been worried the past two weeks you’ve been on time? _

 

Junmyeon just scoffs silently at the reply as puts his phone into his pocket and heads out of his building down the street to he and Minseok’s weekly meeting place. It’s a small restaurant that meets right in the middle of their places so they unofficially made that their spot after they found it was less a hassle to try and find someplace almost every week. 

 

Catching up with Minseok when they have time from their busy schedules is a relief to both of them considering their professions always require their utmost attention. Getting out of the house or office for some air, even for just a few minutes, is like heaven to the two of them. 

 

At some point in his early evening he’s about halfway to the restaurant when there’s a melody that fills the streets with some kind of… Bliss. Junmyeon can feel the energy of every note as he approaches closer and closer and is surprised to see a small male sat on a stool, dressed oddly formal considering he’s playing on the street. He has a small crowd around him and he’s strangely inviting. A warm smile on his face, he’s totally immersed. A glance in his direction has him smiling back to the player, even despite their distance he can see the genuine gleam in the cellist’s eyes, and for a short second Junmyeon wonders if he could be the mystery player from upstairs, but priorities have him tearing himself away and leaving a couple won in the open case as he leaves.

  
  


He steps inside and quickly makes his way over to an unimpressed Minseok, who already has meat laid out on the small grill, and two untouched bottles of Soju asking to be downed.

 

Minseok doesn’t even greet him when he arrives to their table, instead he just cracks the bottle open, pours them each a glass, which they down immediately, then asks, “Writer’s block finally settled, huh?” 

 

Junmyeon nods, “Yeah, that damn cellist is actually gone tonight. I was finally able to get something done today.”

 

Minseok hums, “I don’t understand why you won’t just go up there and tell them to quiet down some. I’m sure if you told them they’d understand.”

 

Junmyeon sighs, he wants to, and he’s been tempted once or twice before, but telling a musician to stop practicing is like telling a writer to stop writing because they’re improvement is becoming over the top and annoying.

 

In other words, there is no point. It makes no sense. Junmyeon would only feel bad after words. With the amount of time this person spends practicing, it’s very likely this is their living. Junmyeon can’t just limit that. That’s like someone telling him to stop writing because they don’t like his style. 

 

“Minseok,” Junmyeon starts, the male doesn’t look up, too focused flipping the meat on the grill to face Junmyeon, “Would you ever tell that cute little nurse of yours to stop practicing because his love for his work annoys you?”

  
  


Minseok sputters and Junmyeon smiles when he sees the light flush that arises on Minseok’s cheeks, “What? No, I can’t do that, that’s senseless…”

 

“Exactly,” Junmyeon says, pouring himself another shot, “I can’t just tell them to stop practicing, it makes no sense. If they do this for a living I’d rather them make the most of it rather than not just because of me.”

 

“Wow,” Minseok smirks, pulling a few strips of meat from the grill. “You’re pretty indifferent about this. I don’t understand why you’re even complaining in the first place.”

 

He’s right. The playing itself is nice, melodic; beautiful,  really.

  
  


_ But it’s so repetitive. _

 

That’s his only problem. Hearing the  _ same _ tune,  _ over and over _ for hours is driving him crazy.

 

They play the same section. Over and over. Then the tune moves into something new, then _ that _ part is played over and over, then both of them together.

 

It’s honestly so stressful, Junmyeon isn’t sure how that person even survives up there without going totally insane.

 

Junmyeon sighs, then changes the subject, “Speaking of… How’s it going with your little nurse? What’s his name again?”

 

Minseok exhales a groan of frustration. “It’s not even that serious…” He mumbles, then quieter he says, “And his name is Baekhyun.”

 

Junmyeon gets a laugh out of teasing Minseok about his not so little crush on one of the nurses who just started a few months back at their hospital. Minseok has never been one to believe in relationships in the workplace, considering he’s busy tending to so many patients he never really has the time to even socialize with the staff unless he’s giving them orders.

 

But ever since this Baekhyun has come along, Junmyeon starts to think he’s not the only one who is indifferent about both of their situations.

 

“Baekhyun!” He exclaims, “You talk to him any?” he grins, pouring them both yet another shot.

 

“I kinda have to…” The older starts, swigging a shot down, “But I know what you’re getting at, so… No, not in that sorta way.” 

  
  


“You should,” Junmyeon says, “I think it’d do you some good. You need to give yourself a break from the whole work thing. Look at you, you’re… What, thirty? And are already getting gray hairs. I think he’d lighten you up a ton.”

 

Minseok chuckles at that one, leaning forward and resting his head in his hand, “I could say the same thing to you, except every time I point you to someone you turn your nose up.”

 

Minseok isn’t wrong. The older male, despite his constant schedule and weighting amount of stress, has actually taken some interest in someone. Meanwhile, Junmyeon has yet to be merely interested in anyone he’s come across thus far. But the difference that lies between them is that Junmyeon is home constantly, and rarely talks to anyone, while Minseok is constantly surrounded by people at every hour of the day, of course he’s having to talk to people.

 

The perks of working as a physician, he thinks.

 

  
♪                                                                                                                          ♪                                                                                                                                                 ♪

  
  
  


The two finish off their night nicely. Joking and eating, catching up with each other and soon enough they’re seeing themselves off or who knows how long until the next time they see each other. 

 

The walk back to his building is brief, his newly lightened mood makes the walk quick and content and before he knows it he’s pressing the button to go back up to his floor. 

 

As the metal doors slide open and he steps on, as the doors begin to slide shut, he barely catches the figure running through the lobby in a hurry, calling for him to wait. He runs through the lobby with a heavy looking object in both hands, backback swinging side to side, and Junmyeon hurriedly sticks his foot in between the sliding doors to let the person on.

 

That person is a young looking man, with a large instrument case in hand.

 

A cello case, to be specific.

  
  


_ This… Is him?! He was the one playing on my way to the restaurant…  _

 

Oh how badly Junmyeon wants to ask or spark come kind of conversation. After all, he’s complained all this time and now that he’s actually seen him… He can’t just not say anything.

 

The cellist steps on out of breath, dipping his head, and thanking Junmyeon kindly as he presses the button to the fifth floor. Junmyeon smiles, and nods in return.

 

He was so bold at first… 

  
  


“That must be heavy, right?” Junmyeon asks, glancing down at the males instrument as the doors slide shut. In the case, the instrument looks to be nearly the size of the player. 

 

The male nods, smiling, “It’s especially tiring to bring home after a concert.”

 

So he  _ is _ legit.

 

He’s dressed in a formal tux, the bowtie is somewhat loose around his neck, and he slips off the black jacket he has on over his dress shirt, throwing it over his shoulder. 

 

“I wouldn’t doubt that,” Junmyeon chuckles, “I also wouldn’t doubt you were all that bad.”

 

A small pink tink covers the players cheeks, he chuckles nervously bringing his free hand up to rub his neck out of embarrassment, “Thank you.” He smiles.

 

“Of course,” Junmyeon smiles, watching the floors tick by… Almost there. 

 

“I live right below you. I hear you everyday.”

 

In an instant the players eyes widen, realization on his face and the sliding doors part for Junmyeon to get off. The player is frantically apologizing, face bright red out of embarrassment and Junmyeon shakes his head, as the doors slide shut, he parts them again, forcing them to bounce back briefly. Just long enough for Junmyeon to finish, “Don’t apologize,” Junmyeon laughs, “It helps me write.”

 

He lied. The same repetitive measures, plus the occasional yells of frustration, it makes Junmyeon want to rip his hair out. The only time Junmyeon actually enjoys it is when the song is played all the way through. Which takes a lot of repetition by that time. 

Though other times he plays songs that he actually knows, like the Cello Suite Number 1. from Bach, or the Four Seasons from Vivaldi, or something he’s heard but can’t remember the composer. Those are nice. They’re comforting.

 

“I saw you again today, you just don’t stop do you?” He teases. “Kim Junmyeon, by the way.” He smiles, and the doors slide shut. 

  
  


**_To:_ **

**_Minseokkie Hyung_ **

_ You won’t believe who I just met…. _

  
  
  


**_Minseokkie Hyung:_ **

_ If it wasn’t the cellist from upstairs, I don’t wanna hear it  _

 

Junmyeon’s night ends well. Not a sound comes from upstairs and with a series of fresh ideas written down and saved new and bright in his mind, he’s fairly confident to tackle tomorrow’s tasks. 

 

Especially now that he’s finally come face to face with that damned cellist. He feels slightly more confident if the time comes where he really loses his mind from that kid. He never got his name though, which is slightly upsetting. But as long as Junmyeon is able to recognize him, he isn’t worried. The player 

has very recognizable features, curved lips, high cheekbones, and eyes that could light up the darkest room, he’s unmistakeable.

  
  
  


  
♪                                                                                                                          ♪                                                                                                                                                 ♪

  
  
  


The next morning is different than the last two weeks have been. 

 

No loud abrupt, sudden playing or yelling. 

 

Well, there’s playing. But this time, it’s calm, serene, and Junmyeon barely notices the soft melodic sounds seeping through the ceiling until he actually started making his coffee. 

  
  


_ This _ . 

This is what he likes to hear.

 

It keeps going for a little over an hour. All the way through Junmyeon making breakfast up until he starts his writing for the day. 

 

Then it stops. 

 

The music stops for the whole rest of the day after that. Leaving Junmyeon in yet another totally comfortable silence to proceed his writing. It’s nice, actually being able to get back on track with things now that he’s falling behind more than he’s wanted to these past few weeks. The silence is as comfortable today as it had been yesterday, and he gets his work done just as he wished he would (with snack breaks in between, of course). Afternoon hits quicker than he expects, and even though he’s been productive throughout the day, he can’t help but to feel something tugging at him that just feels off. He can’t pin what it is, and he suspects it’s just his brain lagging from the two weeks of total frenzy that getting back into the swing of things is putting him off.

  
  


The sun is setting by now, casting a pale orange glow around his office. The silhouettes of buildings stack along the base of the wall and Junmyeon then realizes that the heat that settles against his neck is the heat that lets him know that he’s worked long enough. The sun sets along the city and graces in through his window. Stopping now is probably the best idea or else he’ll keep himself up all night.

  
  
  


He kept himself up all night.

 

The tugging feeling has yet to stop tugging and Junmyeon seemed to have hit a roadblock somewhere in the process. He has fresh ideas, but they aren’t connecting the way he anticipated. He’s lost and now that the sunset has burned out under the wave of cloudy night sky, he’s become totally restless.

 

He looks through his draft once, then twice then tries replacing one thing with something new then tries adding something else on only to grimace when he rereads to himself and delete it all to restart over again. He even tries opening the window of his office to let some air in, thinking that would help.

 

He feels like he’s gone totally crazy.

  
  


Nothing fits, and everything feels messier than it did before and Junmyeon will not rest until what he’s looking for is there. 

 

But it’s not.

  
  
  
  


He groans when his eyes flutter open then squeeze back shut from the bright light the engulfs the room. His arm his tingling and his back is sore. He fell asleep at his desk as some point during the night. 

Despite the heavy light in the room,  the clouds this morning are heavy and hang dark, looming and hovering over the buildings in a plain of thick rolling tufts of gray. 

 

He sighs heavily as he sits up, muscles tight and knotted having slept in the absolute worst way. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time he’s done this and won’t be the last. He’s totally exhausted even having slept all night. With the clouds hanging heavy overhead and his mind hanging even heavier, he decides to take the day completely to himself. He doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere lately, and probably won’t if he continues at the rate he’s at.

  
  
  


The rain pours quicker than he expected, and when he goes to shut the window that he left open last night, he ends up catching a bright red case rushing across the street, away from the building. 

  
The cellist.

 

It’s then that he remembers he wasn’t woken up this morning like he was yesterday, leaving him in a total silence throughout the entire day, making him oddly restless just as he had been last night. Little sleep and no motivation, Junmyeon spends the entire day just lounging around. When the afternoon (or what he thinks is afternoon) rolls around he decides to at least do himself some good and go check the mail. He hasn’t moved almost all day anyways, this is the least he can do, he thinks. 

 

Checking that his appearance is at least decent enough to step out, he slips on some shoes and heads down to the lobby to check his mailbox. 

 

Tired, confused, and his brain muddled and strewn, Junmyeon kind of ends up staring at the mailboxes for a minute before he realizes what he came downstairs for in the first place. He somehow remembered his keys and with the little bit of sanity he has left, finds his mailbox and clumsily unlocks it, pulling out letters that he won’t look at for probably another week and slams it shut. 

 

He’s just turning around to walk back to the elevator when a slam catches him off guard. He turns around to see a bright red cello case inside the entrance of the building and through the glass doors he sees quite possible the most pitiful sight he’s ever seen.

 

Outside, in the pouring rain is a skinny male, soaked to the bone running around frantically to collect sheet music that must have flown out of his backpack somehow. 

 

Junmyeon may have a little sanity left, but probably not a lot of conscience. 

 

He ends up going  _ outside to help him _ .  

  
  


The sight is probably comical, no doubt. Two soaked males scrambling to pick up some sheet music that is probably better off in the trash at this point. He helps anyways, pulling the smaller soaked male by the wrist inside the lobby once they’ve gathered everything they possibly could.

 

The player looks totally wrecked, to put it lightly. 

 

As opposed to Junmyeon, who is relatively dry, the cellist’s hair is tangled and dripping with heavy beads of water, the crisp white dress shirt he had worn out this morning is now soaked through, revealing the sharp outline and definition of his body, and his sheet music is totally ruined. Wherever he just came from must have been a walk, that’s for sure.

 

“I don’t think you can save these…” Junmyeon says, glancing down at the heavy soaked papers, all covered in notes and staffs, ink fading and corners tearing. 

 

He sighs heavily, “I just got these today…” he mutters, “They were for my next concert…”

 

Ouch, Junmyeon thinks. The kid was probably going to stay up all night working on these and now he can’t.

“Thank you though,” The cellist smiles, “I appreciate your help. You didn’t have to do this… ” 

 

Junmyeon chuckles as he watches the tips of the player’s ears turn pink, “It’s the least I could do. I’m sorry it’s ruined.”

 

The male smiles nervously, “No, don’t worry. I can get new ones. Thank you, Hyung…” 

 

“Wow, I didn’t even have to tell you,” The older laughs. “Grab your cello, I’ll help you get all this up to your place.”

 

He nods quickly before scurrying to grab his instrument, heaving it up as he followed the older to the elevator. 

 

The way up to Jongdae’s (He finally told him his name on the way up) is comfortable. Junmyeon asked if Jongdae had just moved in here, to which the male nodded shyly, saying it was closer to the venue he usually plays at. Jongdae is still attending his last year of college and had mentioned having his hopes set at playing in the orchestra that had close ties to his university.

 

The young man is certainly interesting to Junmyeon. Already being so young and striving for what he wants, it almost makes Junmyeon feel bad for being so angry at him in the first place. After hearing the things this kid has yelled out of total frustration then play all over again 5 minutes later is oddly… Endearing.

  
  


Junmyeon almost understands how it feels. Getting rejected by numerous publishers because he didn’t fit their personal standard sand tried telling him to write differently and change the one thing that really made the story. In a way, telling Jongdae to to keep quiet would be, as he told Minseok, pointless. 

 

The two stop when Jongdae fumbles for his keys and then proceeds to unlock his door, “It’s a bit messy, so I apologize in advance.” he half-smiles and pushes the door open, stepping side with Junmyeon behind him. 

_ A bit messy…  _

 

If Jongdae was messy Junmyeon may as well be a neat freak because Jongdae’s place could never be more organized. Minus the few books and papers scattered around and a couple of dishes in the sink, Jongdae’s place was spotless. Meanwhile Junmyeon has yet to actually fold the clothes that have been moving from the washer to  his (now overflowing) hamper for months. 

 

“Make yourself comfortable,” He smiles, inviting Junmyeon further inside the apartment, “I’m just going to run and change.” He says, and disappears down the hall. Junmyeon stands puzzled for a moment, still holding rain soaked sheet music that he doesn’t know what to do with, he only slips his shoes off.

 

“Oh!” Jongdae appears suddenly in the hall again, this time with bare shoulders as he tries to work his wet shirt off, “Put the sheet music on the counter!” he yells, then he’s gone again.

 

Junmyeon does, before quietly stalking off towards a bookcase in the living room. It just happened to catch his eye when they walked in and he’s glad it did.When he walks up to it, he’s totally taken by surprise to see the bookcase is chock full dozens upon dozens books oriented alphabetically down the shelves all containing the same subject.

Yo-Yo Ma, and Pablo Casal, some books on composers of the early times like Mozart and Beethoven, Jongdae had stacks among stacks of books all on one single subject;

 

_ Music. _

 

He’s so taken aback by all the dozens of biographies and autobiographies he doesn’t even notice Jongdae is back in the room. 

 

“Hyung?” 

 

Junmyeon jumps at the sudden voice behind him, and turns to greet Jongdae, whose rain soaked clothes have now been replaced with a large sweatshirt and loose jeans. He stands quite innocently, holding a bottle of Soju and two double shot glasses. 

 

Jongdae chuckles at the olders reaction, “That usually never interests anyone.” He says glancing at the bookcase, then to Junymeon, holding up the bottle, “You drink? I was saving this for a special o

ccasion, I guess this is good as it gets.”

 

Junmyeon nods, and follows Jongdae as they make their way to the living room, each taking a seat on either end of the couch.

“Thank you again,” He starts, handing a glass to Junmyeon, “All of my music fell out when I was digging around for my key card. You didn’t have to help me.”

 

“Don’t apologize.” Junmyeon starts, waving his hand,  “It was my choice. I couldn’t just watch you struggle.”

 

The male hums. Junmyeon, for some reason, feels himself grow a little red at the statement. As dumb as it may sound. But it was true. He knows he’s a better person than to just watch someone struggle from afar, especially when other people were just walking around him. 

 

“Hyung,” Jongdae says suddenly, breaking the small beat of silence that had just rested over them, “My practice… It doesn’t bother you does it? I know it can be repetitive most of the time.” Junmyeon swears he hears a little tinge of dejection laced in the male’s voice when he asks the question.

 

The last thing Junmyeon plans to do today is ruin this kids dream. So he laughs, and shakes his head, “No, of course not. I enjoy it, quite honestly. I understand you need to practice, I’m not going to take that away from you.” 

 

Jongdae’s eyes light up at Junmyeon’s statement and his lips curl up into a delighted smile, thanking the older shyly. Jongdae was truly something, to say the least. He’s polite and hospitable and yet also incredibly comfortable to be around. But despite all that, Junmyeon has somehow forgotten all form of communication. Jongdae’s sweater slips up some when he reaches over to pour Junmyeon a glass, revealing a slender waist and milky skin, and he feels himself grow red for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Quickly, he turns his gaze to the floor before the male can notice, trying to breathe and compose himself so he doesn’t look like some flustered mess. This is the second time that he’s caught himself staring at Jongdae’s revealed skin tonight and has become flustered and embarrassed. He just hopes the younger didn’t catch him. Junmyeon is more embarrassed at himself for being getting so caught up, it isn’t usually like him to stare anyone down but Jongdae seems to be good reeling him in, no matter the circumstance.

  
  


The atmosphere is comfortable, Junmyeon hasn’t actually just sat and talked with someone for what feels like months. Other than Minseok or the people at the publishing company, he’s alone most of the time to work on his writing. He knows people, and he has plenty of connections, but working on his projects is his top priority more than anything. He completely dedicates himself to his writing. Coming up here was a total mistake, he knows. But it was his suggestion, and he isn’t going to deny that there’s a sort of tension that’s being released on him just from watching the storm pass with Jongdae. So he tries to tell himself that this is probably something to be thankful for.

 

Drinking at this time of day is totally wrong, and they both know that, but also don’t seem to mind at the same time. Junmyeon and Jongdae hit things off well considering Junmyeon was ready to rip the cellist to shreds just a few days ago, talking and drinking like this despite them being total strangers just a day ago feels more comfortable than it should. 

  
  
  


To Junmyeon’s dismay; One bottle passed by too quickly. 

  
  
  
  
  


  
♪                                                                                                                          ♪                                                                                                                                                 ♪

  
  
  
  
  
  


Jongdae, Junmyeon has gathered over far too long of a stay, is animated in ways he’s never seen before. He shares a bold personality and never seems to run out of anything to say. He’s lively, much like the rolling storm outside, he has personality like the rolling thunder and charisma brighter than the flashing lightning. 

 

Junmyeon stayed far, far too long with Jongdae. All through the afternoon and into the evening and they learned a lot more than they expected to about each other. They became so caught up in their conversations and storytelling and life rambling they hadn’t realized the storm had long since passed and the night had begun to creep upon them.

 

Jongdae seemed to be absolutely set for some reason on not letting Junmyeon leave. It was like this was the first time he had human contact in years.

 

He insisted on food, drinks, and even a movie for them to watch and all of the sudden gestures has Junmyeon itching to ask what has the cellist so persistent. Junmyeon has said countless times that really, he’s alright, and really, he should get going, but Jongdae insists that he stays, so Junmyeon does without second thought. Maybe it’s his fault for not pushing it more, but even if he goes back home he’s just going to end up staring at his computer for hours without any idea about his direction. 

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly persistent?” Junmyeon says suddenly, watching the smaller male smirk as he sits back on the couch handing a beer to Junmyeon. 

 

“My entire cello section, everyday.” He chuckles, “I lead the entire section. If there’s anything in the music I don’t like or should be changed I’ll change it. If the other players have trouble I’ll work to make sure they have it, no matter how much they oppose.” 

 

Junmyeon nods as Jongdae continues, “I guess it’s obvious, huh?”

 

“Considering I’ve been here for a little over three hours now, yeah.” He chuckles, cracking the can open and taking a small sip, “Don’t get me wrong, I like this. It’s… Comfortable. I don’t get together with people like this often. My closest friend is a practicing physician, and he only has so much time.”

 

Jongdae nods in response. There was a movie playing, but they’ve completely ignored it at this point, only using it as a white noise as they immerse themselves in  conversation once more. It’s addicting. 

  
  


Almost as addicting as Jongdae’s mouth.

 

It was at some point between the beginning of the low buzz of alcohol that was running through both of them and Junmyeon becoming somewhat clingy after another 2 cans that the older made the move to press their lips together. Junmyeon nearly feels instant regret and is about to pull away, but to his surprise, Jongdae deepens the kiss. 

  
  


He lost count of how long it’s been since he’s actually done this with someone, even after Minseok’s constant protests of hooking him up with someone, Junmyeon never could seem to get into it. As time dragged on, he supposes he became a little more distant with the feeling and ignored it up until now.

  
  


But this time, it’s different. 

 

This time, he absorbs Jongdae’s every little detail in like a dry sponge. Every feeling he once ignored now ignites as he falls back against the plush armrest of the couch with Jongdae on top of him. Carefully the younger pulls away, pulling back some and staring down at Junmyeon, who is a flustered mess.

 

“Hyung is this… Are you okay? You’re kinda hesitant. If you want we ca-”

 

“Nono, I just-I came onto you first I wasn’t sure if you were okay. The alcohol has me a little buzzed and I haven’t done this in a while so I guess I kinda lost my conscience, Jongdae I’m-”

  
  


Jongdae leans back in brushing their lips together just briefly, and pulls back, “You aren’t the only one who’s a little buzzed here. I’m alright if you are.”

 

Junmyeon only nods in response to Jongdae’s words because despite the flush he feels in his cheeks and the heat in his stomach he feels a relief on his shoulders from Jongdae’s comforting words. It’s obvious now that they both have enough conscience to understand the situation, so Junmyeon carefully wraps his arms around Jongdae’s neck and pulls him back in. 

 

Everything Junmyeon has been worried about and stressing over lifts and disperses into thin air. Jongdae riding up against him with his lips trailing down the cellists neck, nipping and biting, is the only thing he focuses on. Soft pants are hot against his neck and send chills down his spine as moves his hands along Jongdae’s slender outline.

 

He’s achingly hard already thanks to Jongdae grinding his hips right up against him. His movements are fluid and deep, leaving Junmyeon almost breathless as he reaches to pull the smaller down harder against him.

 

Somehow, despite his state, Junmyeon manages to keep his composure while Jongdae desperately grinds against him. He can feel the other male’s hard on against him and it’s taking everything within him not to flip Jongdae over and take matters into his own hands.

 

Junmyeon’s hands won’t stop roaming. One hand runs through Jongdae’s short black hair and the other finds it’s way onto his waist under his sweater. Fingers delicately tracing over the soft skin and occasionally he’d dig his nails into his skin a little harder when Jongdae would make a move that sends him a little closer to the edge. 

 

It’s one thing for Junmyeon to even get together like this someone, but it’s another thing for him to become so into it that he finds himself practically begging for some kind of further action. He would love to tease Jongdae until he’s begging, but for some reason something is holding him back, maybe it’s the fact that Jongdae is on top of him taking most everything into his control, or maybe it’s the fact that Junmyeon just doesn’t want to go all the way. Or both. He has a higher feeling that it’s both and this is the first time he’s ever had a feeling like this, despite his many hookups in the past he’s never felt anything like this. 

 

He can’t blame the alcohol, he’s had more than enough one night stands with people when being under the influence, and he’s hardly all that bad this time. Jongdae has something holding him under the surface and whatever it is, is absolutely addicting. 

 

He’s broken out of whatever trance he’s in by soft moans that fill into his mouth. He can tell Jongdae is starting to lose his patience and so is he. Carefully, he reaches under Jongdae’s shoulders and pushes him up. Looking at him now almost made Junmyeon lose it. The way his plush lips were swollen and the tips of his ears were flustered, his hair was messy small strands stuck to the light sweat on his head, he’s breathless and panting as he stares down at Junmyeon with glassy eyes. 

 

Junmyeon moves his hands down from Jongdae’s hips and hooks his fingers onto the belt loops of his pants. He can feel the sweat collecting on his neck and he feels almost as flustered as Jongdae, but he keeps himself together as he looks up at the younger.

 

“For the sake of possible regret, we’ll keep things simple. Sound good?” He asks, and Jongdae nods, lips curling up just slightly, causing Junmyeon to smirk and pull him back down, crashing their lips together as if they weren’t sharing a heated, messy kiss just seconds ago.

 

Junmyeon bites and tugs at Jongdae’s lower lip before pulling away, and pushing Jongdae back up just like he had before, shifting a little high against the armrest of the couch, he slips his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor as his glance sets back onto the smaller.

 

Out of breath and and out of patience, Jongdae makes the first move, shifting on Junmyeon’s lap to get access to his jeans. Junmeyon is surprised at the younger’s eagerness, to say the least. He tugs at Junmyeon’s zipper and tugs his jeans down just enough to get access to Junmyeon, who’s words apparently seem to ring in Jongdae’s head that going all the way was not in interest.

 

Junmyeon lets out a shaky breath as his erection finally springs free from the constriction of the cloth material that was just barely keeping him from Jongdae’s pretty mouth. His muscles tighten in anticipation and he throws his head back as Jongdae trails hot, wet kisses down his abdomen, stopping just at the tip of his aching cock. 

 

“Y’know,” Jongdae breathes, sitting up some, “for a writer your body is no joke.”

 

Junmyeon scoffs, “You knew?”

 

“Your name was familiar.” Is all he says before slowly sinking back down.

 

Junmyeon is desperate for Jongdae to wrap his mouth around him already, and he isn’t sure how much longer he can deal with Jongdae’s teases. He bites and sucks at his collar down, and trails down to his nipples, letting his tongue do magic and all Junmyeon can do is watch at how his eyes flutter shut and how his hands will clench and unclench every so often. He can feel his erection twitch as he feels Jongdae’s breath ghost over the sensitive skin as he makes his way further down. 

 

This is it, he thinks. And it is. Jongdae peppers featherlight kisses down his length and licks his way back up before taking his leaking tip into his mouth. Junmyeon, who has been trying so hard to hold back everything, let’s out a breathy moan when he feels Jongdae’s tongue work around his head then sink further down, taking more of him. Junmyeon’s hands unconsciously find their way into Jongdae’s hair as he carefully pushes him lower, allowing him to come up, then repeating the action again. Jongdae’s mouth is hot and wet around his cock and filling him with so much pleasure and intensity that his hips snap up, causing him to thrust into his mouth. 

 

He swears and apologizes to the male quickly, but Jongdae’s round eyes peer up and him and he pulls off of Junmyeon with a pop. 

 

“Again,” The smaller says, chest rising and falling at a steady pant, “Do it again.” 

 

“Wait, I-Are you sure?” 

 

“Listen, if there’s anything I don’t like, I’ll tell you, okay? I’m not made of paper. I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you throw at me, though.” Jongdae scoffs. He wait for Junmyeon’s confirmation before sinking back down and taking Junmyeon in again. Slowly, Junmyeon lets his hips rise and fall, in and out of Jongdae’s mouth and picks up the pace a little more until vibrations send his bones rattling and his stomach tightening. He’s so close. He knows Jongdae can tell too, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps going until he can hardly stand it and pulls out, letting Jongdae catch his breath. 

 

“You took me a lot better than I expected,” He smirks, “If you’re mouth can take me that well then we should really try going all the way sometime.” he says, letting his hands trail under Jongdae’s sweater, fingers grazing over the sticky skin as he lets his hands fall over the smaller’s outline, falling to undo the button of his jeans, and tugging them down just far enough to give him better access to the smaller.

 

Junmyeon smirks, and tugs down the waistband of Jongdae’s underwear, letting his length spring out, precum leaking at the tip, just begging to be touched.

 

Jongdae whines, crawling a little higher on Junmyeon’s lap. He can’t imagine how desperate he must be for touch right now, considering he hasn’t said a word about it all night. He has to give it to him, Jongdae has hardly begged for anything since they started, his actions certainly speak for him. He may be vocal, but not certainly not chatty, something else that just peaks Junmyeon’s curiosity about the male.

 

Junmyeon massages Jongdae’s tip, smearing the precum wit his thumb and stroking slowly, causing Jongdae to slowly rock his hips into Junmyeons hand, soft whines and moans fill the room and to Junmyeon, it’s prettier than the music he plays from his cello. 

 

He pulls Jongdae up a little further on his lap until both their dicks are touching. Junmyeon takes them both in his hand, using precum and whatever was remaining from Jongdae’s mouth as a lube, and begins stroking slowly once more. Riling Jongdae up is a sight. The way he throws his neck back and his adam’s apple bobs with total pleasure- He’s something Junmyeon can’t help but to take in. 

 

“Faster, Please- _ ah _ -please Hyung.”

 

So now he’s begging.  _ That’s  _ what Junmyeon likes. 

 

Junmyeon would like to put Jongdae’s small hands around his cock just for the extra thrill, but the younger’s hands are too preoccupied gripping onto his shoulders and digging his nails into the bare skin. Junmyeon gives them both a few more strokes and uses his free hand to take one of Jongdae’s from his shoulder, and leads it down to his shaft while still working on Jongdae’s.

 

Jongdae is so far off from reality that his strokes end up a little messy but still firm and pleasing nonetheless. His other grip tightens on his shoulder and his quick thrusts into Junmyeon’s hand become a little messier, his whines becoming just a little louder. Junmyeon can tell that he’s begging for more with his thrusts, because he’s had yet actually go faster on him. He wants him begging.

 

Junmyeon would love to ravish Jongdae’s body. If this is what he looks like just with Junmyeon’s hand around him, he can only imagine how he must be sprawled out on a bed, how his muscles must look under that sweater, taut and fine and rippling perfectly along his figure. He’s already a sight to tease.

 

Maybe another time. 

 

“You know,” Junmyeon grunts, “Every time I hear you play now, I’ll think of this.”

 

He gets a chuckle from Jongdae at that, and a sudden piercing grip into his shoulders from his small hand followed by a choked moan. Jongdae is about to lose it. His grip around Junmyeon’s length has loosened and his eyes are screwed shut, nails digging harder and harder into Junmyeon’s shoulder.

Junmyeon takes them both back into his hand again, Jongdae has become so overwhelmed that he can’t focus on anything that isn’t Junmyeon’s hand around his cock. 

 

“You look so pretty on top of me like this, I don’t-I don’t know if I should let you come yet.” Junmyeon breathes, slowing his pace down as Jongdae takes a shaky breath in. 

 

“H-Hyung, please,  _ please- _ I’m so close.” He whines, breathy and weak, rolling his hips messily against Junmyeon’s hand and cock, the friction pulls them both a little closer to their peak.

Jongdae’s hands ball into tight little fists as he groans Junmyeon’s name,

“Hyung, I can’t-”

 

“Shh, just let go, Dae.” He whispers.

 

A few more meak pleads and scratches later, Jongdae ends up coming all over Junmyeon without warning. Thick white spurts land on Junmyeon’s abdomen, Jongdae, who he thought was in a totally different realm ends up stroking Junmyeon through his climax, adding on to the mess on his stomach. 

 

If it weren’t for the come on Junmyeon’s abdomen, he’s pretty sure Jongdae would have flopped right onto him. Instead, the small male sits back on his haunches deep, shaky pants from the two of them fill the room.

“What did you call me?” Jongdae’s voice suddenly rings out in the room, and Junmyeon turns his glance up to him, confused.

 

“Just a minute ago, what-what did you call me?”

  
  


“Oh, yeah. Dae, I called you Dae, is that… Okay?”

  
  


A light smile curls on Jongdae’s still swollen lips, “I like that. You should use it the next time we do this.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> If you'd like to find me and talk, I have a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/versolshua)  
> I've also created a [Tumblr](https://versolshua.tumblr.com/) for the sole purpose of being able to hear from my followers and connect with all of you. So please, if there's anything you'd like to ask or tell me, don't be shy, I'd love to hear what you have to say!
> 
> (also, do expect a future side story with that side xiubaek)


End file.
